


dawn.

by asnanana



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 22:12:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14121933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asnanana/pseuds/asnanana
Summary: "However long the night, the dawn will break." -African proverb





	dawn.

Three minutes is a long fucking time, okay? It’s so  _fucking_  long that you feel as though you can read the entire series of the “Lord of the Rings” franchise and a minute wouldn’t even pass.

You’ve never felt a pit in your stomach as heavy as this one felt. It feels like a boulder just sitting in your stomach, a mountain that refuses to move and you feel nauseous at the suspense.

Your leg won’t stop bouncing as you sit on the edge of the tub, waiting for the timer on your phone to ring and provide you with the results.

You’ve peed on five sticks.

You bought three boxes.

You’re not entirely sure what you’re feeling, but it’s strong and unyielding on your mind. You can only imagine what it feels like for Frank.

He sits with his back against the bathroom door, body still as he stares off into space. You haven’t spoken to each other since you asked him to take you to the store.

There was no reason to beat around the bush. It takes two to tango, it’ll take two to figure this shitty situation out.

_Frank came into his apartment with a few plastic bags filled with groceries in his hand. You had complained last time that he didn’t have enough nutritional foods in his cabinets, so he figured he might as well make you proud the next time you came over._

_He sets the bags down onto the small kitchen table when he sees your purse thrown on the side of one of the chairs. He looks around the living room to find you, when he sees you standing in the open doorway leading to his bedroom. Your face is solemn, eyes holding an emotion he wasn’t exactly aware of. He barely has time to say “hi”._

_“Take me to Reno’s.” His eyebrows furrow, his body standing up straighter as he takes you in. Your voice is strained and your body rigid, as though you saw a ghost. His first thought was about your safety. Were you alright? Did somebody hurt you?_

_He’s about to ask why you want him to take you to a bodega at the break of dawn, when you cut him off._

_“I think I’m pregnant.”_

_You’ve never seen that man grab his keys so fast._

You can barely look at him. You both were so careful with things. Always wearing condoms, always taking your birth control pills on time, even pulling out while wearing the condom. Yes, there were some times when the heat of the moment caused you both to forget practicalities of your fragile situations, but that happened only a handful of times. And the last time that happened was… two months ago.

You feel suspended in time, craving for just a few more minutes of not knowing, but also hating being in this weird purgatory between ignorance and knowledge.

You don’t know what to do.

You’re relationship with Frank isn’t entirely new, but there is still a lot of uncharted territory between you two. (You’d think after almost a year you’d know each other pretty well.)

Despite how intertwined your lives were with one another, you both lead separate schedules. You, a doctor working your residency in the Saint Luke’s Children’s Hospital, all the while living in a one bedroom apartment that has seen better days. You barely have time to find a new apartment, let alone take care of a child.

And not to mention Frank, who is currently in between jobs at the moment under his alias of ‘Peter Castiglione’, not forgetting that fact that he was still murdering people less than eight months ago.

And less than two years ago, Frank lost his family.

You hoped to God you weren’t pregnant.

For his sake.

You’re so in your head, you almost don’t hear the alarm ring out on your phone, the happy chime providing a sharp contrast the the mood that had settled itself into the small bathroom.

You don’t want to get up.

Your heart is beating so fast and your breath is coming out in pants. Your fingers are white around the edge of the tub, gripping with so much strength. A chill runs down your spine.

You don’t even need to look at the tests.

You know what the answer is.

And you’re not very enthusiastic with the results.

“You want me to look?” Frank’s voice pulls you out of your thought, the deep timber of his voice providing a wave of comfort over you and you can feel your throat close in response. How can you do this to him?

You look over to him, his beautiful brown eyes filled with compassion, watching your every move and you’re pretty sure he knows what the tests say too.

You both never really had luck on your side.

You shake your head, “No. I’ll do it.” And with that, you slowly stand up. Your legs feel like jelly and you would much rather collapse to the floor than take the couple of steps to the sink, but you make it there.

You keep your head up, staring at your disheveled self in the mirror before counting to three and looking down.

Five plus signs.

 _Pregnant_.

You take a deep inhale of breath, trying to hold back the incoming tears. You turn your head to look at Frank, watching him try to keep his face stoic despite all the worry and fear you know is pent up inside of him.

You give him a small nod.

His stoic face breaks for a split second, the dejectedness and fear playing their acts out on his face, before he puts the wall back up. He runs a hand over his smooth chin and takes a hard swallow. He looks down to the floor, nodding his head absentmindedly before pushing himself off the floor. He doesn’t meet your eyes.

He stands, his eyes still on the floor, knowing you’re watching, and leaves the bathroom.

You don’t blame him.

You also don’t blame him when you hear the front door open and close.

You wait a couple minutes before you leave too, taking the damned tests with you, tears, jumbled mind and all.

**  
There is a slight breeze tonight, one that is gentle against Frank’s skin as he stands on the rooftop of the building, looking out at the living city below him. It’s almost dawn.

He hasn’t seen you in a week.

You’ve given him space, not trying to get in contact with him and letting him take his time to process the entire situation (which he thinks is fucking ridiculous considering you’re the one carrying the damn thing and yet you’re more worried about him. It’s noble. But still fucking ridiculous. And yet, he can’t bring himself to talk to you.)

Despite how much of an atomic bomb this is, he hasn’t really thought much about it (or maybe he’s been thinking so much about it that his mind ends up going numb). He’s continued on with his daily routines of getting coffee in the mornings and applying to various sorts of jobs and doing some other trivial shit throughout the day.

He’s been coming out to the roof of his apartment building since you both found out though. He’s not sure why. Maybe he’ll get an epiphany or something, but he’s just decided to add that to his routine.

He wonders what you’ve been doing.

He stands on the rooftop for at least an hour, watching and listening to the sounds of the city as she hustles and bustles throughout the night.

The city reminds him of you.

Always filled with life and light. Hella busy, too. Always got something going on in you. But watching you work is a helluva sight to see, whether it be patching him up, or washing the dishes, he’s pretty sure the grace and elegance you exude is only meant for him. You move with purpose, each smile and frown and popped out leg done with such perfection that he could make a movie of you doing mundane tasks for hours and he’s sure it would win every big shot movie award.

You’re close to perfect. And he’s as close to broken as it could possibly get.

He doesn’t have any answers for you, or any idea of what he wants to do, because as sure as he is that having his kid is the biggest mistake you will ever make, he knows that the kid is half his, but also half yours. And if you’re close to perfection, then the kid is blessed enough already and it’s not even born yet.

But, he already has kids and they’re lying six feet underground with their mother.

He can’t go through that again.

So, he does the only thing he can: avoid the situation.

But, if there’s one thing he knows, it’s that you are a meticulous planner. You’ve got a plan or two for everything. And he knows that you like to be kept in the loop, so if you can’t check on him, like you usually do, you’ll send someone else to.

He’s not really surprised when he hears the familiar voice behind him, if anything, he was waiting for it.

“She’s truly something else, ain’t she Red?” Frank continues his gaze out on the breathing city, speaking to Matt as he leans against the raised wall on the edge of the building.

He hears Matt chuckle, “Yeah well, at least you didn’t grow up with her.”

A silence falls between the two men, the noises of traffic and people filling in the space between them.

Matt wants to pry further. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on between the two of you; He only knows that you asked him to check on Frank and report back if he’s okay or not. He wanted to ask more questions, but after seeing your red eyes and less than appealing appearance, he was willing to do anything for you, no questions asked.

“She wanted me to check on you. Make sure everything was alright.” Matt says. Frank nods his head and takes a sip from the cup of coffee he was holding.

“You’ve done your job.”

 _So much for that_ , Matt thinks. The finality is Frank’s tone confirmed what Matt already knew: there was no use in getting information from him.

He sighs, heading towards the opposite ledge from Frank, ready to take his departure and continue his patrol of the city. He did what he was asked to do, he’ll just have to figure out what he has to say to you.

Then he remembers your red eyes and your shaky voice asking him to do this one thing for him, the heartbreak clear enough for the world to see, and he knows he can’t go back to you empty handed. He stops his walk and turns himself back around,

“Listen, Frank. Whatever it is that’s going on between you two, it’ll work itself out. You guys always end up working it out, and I’m pretty confident that this time is no different-”

“She’s pregnant Red.”

Matt feels his words of advice get sucked out of his mouth.

Pregnant. A baby. You. Oh god.

“Is it-” Matt stutters, “Is it yours?”

Frank laughs in disbelief, “Pretty fuckin’ sure. Unless she’s told you about some side piece she has-”

“No no no, she wouldn’t- You and I both know she’s not like that.” Matt pulls himself to stand next to Frank, leaning over the edge, allowing the song of the city to take a back seat to his thoughts.

Matt knows he should say something, but he doesn’t know what. He’s too stunned. He can’t believe it: You, his best friend, his little sister, his  _world,_ pregnant, with a man too broken to put back together, with a man who lost everything in the blink of an eye and went on a killing spree because of it. You’re too good, and he… isn’t. 

As powerful as that sentiment is, he knows it’s wrong. Despite his past, he’s confident there has never been a better person for Frank, than you. He knew from the moment that he brought a bloody and incoherent Frank to your front door, you were hooked. He was a slurring, drooling mess that thanked you profusely for fixing his wounds. And when you allowed Frank to come back a second time, Matt knew, there was something much stronger than friendliness.

You’ve healed parts of Frank, both physically and mentally, and he’s provided the safety and comfort you’ve always lacked throughout your life. Frank will deny it, but Matt sees the joy in Frank’s eyes when he mentions your name.

But still, it’s kind of weird to see your surrogate little sister fall into some sort of trance with a man you despise.

Part of him wants to say ‘congratulations’ and see how much it pisses him off, but the good part of him can see the torment and the sheer amount of  _pain_  the man is going through despite his silence. So, he gently prods, keeping his voice low and even, not wanting to sound like he’s giving the man pity.

“What are you going to do?”

Frank lets out a deep sigh. He knows the question is said with you in mind. It comforts Frank to know that, should he leave or disappear or die, you’d have Matt to rely on.

But it doesn’t comfort him  _that_  much.

“I- I can’t do this again Red,” his voice is lowered, as though if his voice were to go any higher the situation would become  _too_  real, “You know what that’s like? Hmm? To have something good and then-then have it taken out right in front of you? They were-I couldn’t- fuck, I couldn’t protect them. I couldn’t protect my own goddamn kids. That was my one job and I couldn’t fucking do it. I can’t- Everything good I had, was taken away. I’m not letting that happen again.”

“So, what, you’re just going to prevent yourself from ever being happy again?” Frank scoffs at him, “What? You’re telling me that whenever you’re with (Y/N), you’re not happy? Sorry Frank, but I’m calling bullshit.”

Frank angrily turns his body towards Matt, his eyes narrowed and lips tight, “You just don’t get it do you? I see my kids bodies everyday and every night! Like a fucking movie, I- I- I see their guts and- and their blood all over my hands. I did that to them, Red! I did that! How can I be happy with knowing what I did to them? If I could do it to my kids back then, imagine what I can do to this one, now.”

The hostility in Matt’s voice ebbs away, “What happened to your kids wasn’t your fault-”

“You don’t know jack shit about what happened.” Frank’s voice is filled with venom. He’s tired of the preaching Matt gives him, he’s tired of everyone telling him he’s a good man, he’s tired of being Frank.

“Everything I touch, dies. I’d be doing her a favor stayin’ outta the way.”

He knows what he did, he knows what happened because of it, he knows the dangers of being near him, and yet he still allowed you to come too close. Now look where he’s got you.

In between a rock and a hard place.

“She’s too good Red. She deserves more than this, more than me. I can’t just live this new life with her. I can’t just use her to replace my old life.”

The breeze is starting to finally set a chill in Frank’s bones. A chill that goes deeper than the skin. A chill that only you can get rid of. And that’s what scares him.

How much he likes being near you, how easy it is to have you around, how.. content he is when you’re next to. He’s just using you.  _That’s not true_. Fuck yeah it is.  _No, it’s not_.

“Frank, you’re not replacing them, I don’t think (Y/N) would let you. And you’re not just using her. As much as it pains me, we all know something’s there between you two. Despite how problematic you are, I, uh, I don’t think I want her with anyone else.”

Frank looks over at the Devil, watching him through narrowed eyes, hoping to find a lie in his eyes, his voice, his body language, anything.

He doesn’t.

Matt is 100% sincere, and he seems almost embarrased by that.

“You’re not replacing them, Frank,” Matt says again, turning his head to meet Frank’s stare. The air between the two of them quiet and reserved, the men sharing that brief moment of vulnerability amongst the height of the city as the sun slowly rises up from the cape of the night.

“You’re just moving on, Frank. You  _deserve_  the right to move on.”  
  


**  
A week ago, Matt had told you that Frank was fine. He told you no more than that, leaving you to your own devices to determine what the hell 'fine’ meant exactly.

Was he fine as in fine with the situation, or fine without you? Fine as in he’d talk to you soon, or fine as in “he’s not ready to address the situation but he’s fine”-fine?

Either way,  _you_  were less than fine.

Your appetite seemed to disappear almost instantly, having to force yourself to eat something and sleep was non-existent. The complexity of the situation set a plague unto your body, punishing you physically and emotionally.

Matt checked on you frequently, as did your lovely next door neighbor Linda. (She was a tall, dark-skinned woman in her late fifties who lived by herself. Shy and a bit neurotic, but it wasn’t until she told you that she lost her husband and her three sons in a car crash, that you understood why. The youngest was a five-month old. She reminds you of Frank, which is probably why you like her so much.)

She found you one day, on the floor outside of your door, sobbing because you couldn’t get the key in the hole. It didn’t take you very long to confess to her. Ever since, she’s dropped food off at your door more frequently, and makes sure you’re getting enough fluids.

_“Linda, you really don’t have to keep bringing me food.” You told her as she walked through your apartment with a hot tray of lasagna, spreading the aroma throughout your home._

_“It’s no bother. Truly. It’s nice makin’ somebody food. Besides, this is my mama’s recipe. Can’t keep making ot if no one gon’ eat it.” Her smile is the brightest you’ve ever seen, and it truly brings out her dark brown eyes. She looks beautiful with a smile._

_“I’m pregnant, not handicapped.” You softly joked, hoping she would find the humor too. Ever since you told her you were pregnant, she had become more… lively, as though the news was the greatest thing to happen to her in awhile. It probably was._

_“Doesn’t matter! You’re growin’ a baby and now is a more important time than ever!” She moves around your kitchen as though she’s lived there for years, despite her only being in there a few times. She moves through the cabinets and drawers, grabbing two plates and utensils to cut into the steaming lasagna with._

_She looks up at you from cutting into the lasagna, and motions for you to move from leaning against the doorway to sitting at the kitchen table. You follow her directions._

_“For the next eight months, your job is to rest and grow a beautiful baby, so you go on and jus’ let me do all the hard work.” She gives you a wide smile, placing the food onto one plate and moving to cut another piece._

_“Well, I still have to pay rent and save up for when the baby comes, so that’s not really plausible,” You had made up your mind a few days ago that you were going to keep the baby. Despite the bad timing and the fact that your child’s father wasn’t exactly in the best spot, your baby was made out of love.  
You’re sure of it._

_You loved Frank. You **love**  Frank. And that was all the reassurance you needed to know that, you would not be making the biggest mistake of your life. (Naive, I know.)_

_“I mean- If I’m going to do this on my own, I need to prepare for this,” you watched as her motions stilled, the knife frozen in her hand as she slowly turned her brown eyes up to yours. You hadn’t meant for the statement to be as sad as it sounded, truly._

_You weren’t entirely sure of the state of your relationship at the moment, but you weren’t going to blame him. How could you?_

_Linda slowly puts down the knife and spatula, her eyes boring into yours and maintaining a gaze filled with determination. Her voice was steady, steadier than you’ve ever heard before when she says, “As long as I’m breathin’, you will not be alone. I am with you every step of the way.”_

_She holds you when the tears fall._

Despite all feelings otherwise, the world continued to revolve. The night turned into day and your schedule was chaotic, which was expected.

You go into work at dawn, dealing with your scheduled appointments for children and their parents. You expected havoc, just not to this extent.

With the rising rate of the number of influenza cases, parents were driving their children to the hospital in droves at even the slightest of symptoms. The diagnosing wasn’t the bad part, you actually enjoyed meeting and talking to children, it was the parents that believed they knew more than you did that drove you up the wall. And there is literally no way you can tell a parent to “shove it” that wouldn’t result in you getting fired, so the polite smiles and the nods of your head were all you could do.

You clock out at six in the afternoon, but even then you’re work day isn’t over; You’re an on-call doctor, meaning your job can resume at 2 in the morning if need be, but for the time being, your main goal is to just get back into your apartment.

The heels on your feet are killing you and the rigorous schedule you stuck to, was finally getting to you, sleep knocking at your front door.

You enter the lobby of your apartment and open the mailbox that has your apartment number on it, getting your mail and quickly sifting through it. Bills, bills and more bills.

You turn your body to enter the elevator when you notice the yellow tape on the closed doors: “ **IN REPAIR** ”.

You let out an audible groan, moving your vision towards the numerous amount of stairs to the left of the elevator.

“Of course,” you grumble, “Can’t have a shitty day without a broken elevator.”

You make it up to the fourth floor (your heels are in your hands now) and you’ve already grabbed your keys out of your bag, ready to head into your apartment. You can already feel the warmth and comfort of your bed and it sounds delicious.

That’s when you see him. There’s a man sitting in front of your door, holding a potted plant. You assume he saw movement out of the corner of his eyes and he turns his head to you, giving you a clear view on who exactly this man was. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“Frank,” you whisper, not entirely sure if you were calling to him or just processing his presence. He quickly stands up when he notices you, straightening himself out and standing very awkwardly before you.

As much as you want to get closer to him, your body is frozen in place.

You can’t count how many times this situation has played out in your head, and each time was significantly more different from the other. One thing they all had in common though, was that you were actually able to talk. In reality, you couldn’t utter a word, your mouth agape and eyes wide as you realized, you were finally going to have to talk about it. With Frank. Right now. About this.

Oh god, you can feel the bile rising.

You’re forever grateful that he says something first.

He holds out the potted succulent to you, despite being a distance away from you, “I, uh, I got you this.” He doesn’t make any move towards you, wanting you to come to him. But the message is clear.  _Whenever you’re ready_.

You’re not sure you’ll ever be ready, but you’ve gotta rip the band-aid off sooner or later, right? And if you didn’t do this now, Linda would have your head.

_Do it for Linda. Do it for Linda. No wait- do it for your child. Your unborn child. The one that’s growing inside of you. Whatever. You can do it for both._

You tentatively take those couple of steps closer, like a bird slowly apporaching the outstreched hand. Once close enough, you grab the pot, finally breaking eye contact with him and looking down at the plant. It has a beautiful assortment, filled with vibrant blues and purples.

“You said you always kill regular flowers, so I uh, figured I’d get you that. The lady said it’s hard to kill or somethin’, and you know,it’s to try to make up for… for not bein’ here.” His eyes are cast down, almost in shame.

Again, you’ve played this event out in many different ways in your head, but you never imagined that it would start off like this.

You’re not mad at it.

“You wanna come inside?” He brings his eyes to meet yours, searching through them to see if he can find any hesitancy or regret or something to let him know that he’s fucked up too much to be fixed.

He doesn’t find anything. So, he takes his chance.

He quickly nods his head, “Yeah. Please.” You nod in response, moving around him and placing your keys in the lock.  
**  
“Thank you.” He says when you hand him the cup of coffee. Your fingers touch when the cup is passed along, and you try to ignore how good it feels. How much you’ve missed his fingers on your skin, how comforting his touch feels.

He sits at your small table as you lean against the cabinet. He takes a small sip of it and does that little scrunch of his nose. It makes you smile.

The air is… awkward, as you both are very aware of the elephant in the room, yet the topic is so hard to approach.

Just rip the band-aid off.

“I’m sorry-”

“I’m going to keep it-”

Both of your words are rushed but he could clearly hear what you said. He stares at you, wide-eyed as your brief spike of confidence slowly dimishes under his gaze.

“I-I’m not expecting anything from you. I hope you know that. You’re not obligated to do anything for me. This is- you’re- I mean, I understand that this is less than ideal for you, so I won’t be mad if you don’t want to be in our lives, but I just-I’m won’t pretend that I don’t already love this baby,” the words are spilling out of your mouth at such a speed that you’re not even fully aware of what your saying.

“We didn’t exactly have a stable relationship, but I mean, there’s no denying we had something, right? I can’t deny that I wasn’t in love with you, because I was. I am. I’m so in love with you.  _Oh god_ , I’m so in love with you. Fuck! This was not how this was supposed to go. You don’t have to say you love me okay just, just forget that I said that. Okay, anyways, I’m going to keep this baby because it’s yours. And I’m going to keep any part of you that I can, because every part of you is-is perfect, and great and good and lovely so imagine what this baby will be like. Fuckin’ perfect if I know anything.”

He’s silent as he watches you trip and fumble and rant over your words, as you pace through your kitchen.

“But the point is! I won’t force you to do anything that will open wounds, especially not, not yet healed ones. That would be cruel on my part, and I care too much about you to do that. You don’t have to do this. I can handle it on my own.” You finish pacing, ending up in the position you started in.

You feel the massive weight on your shoulders, being lifted finally. Your body feels as though it can finally breathe and your mind is more than elated at the fact that it isn’t so cluttered anymore. Your body physically slumps and you let your head hang down, relishing in this momentary relief.

But, the anxiousness starts to build its way back when you realize that after a couple of minutes, Frank still hasn’t said anything yet. You look up at him to find him still staring at you.

Your eyes plead to him.  _Say something please_.

“I don’t want you to handle this on your own,” his voice is soft and gentle, his brown doe eyes staring into yours, and you can feel yourself melting into him. You don’t notice when he gets up from his chair and makes his way closer to you, until he’s standing right in front of you and you can see  _him_. The bags under his eyes, every follicle of hair growing in on his stubble, and the lack of bruises on his face.

“We did this together. It wouldn’t be right for me to let you do this on your own.”

“I don’t want you to do this just because you feel like you have to, Frank,” you shake your head and sigh, “That’s literally the opposite of what I want.”

“I’m not-It’s not like that,” you can see that he’s trying to piece his words together carefully, “Look, you’re right. This is happening at a really shitty time, and I’m not…completely put together, okay? But, I’ve gotta move on.

“Having a baby isn’t exactly the best first step” you exhale an amused breath through your nose and that makes him smile a bit, “But it’s a first step. I want to be there, cause this is  _our_  baby. I want to do this, because I know you’ll be with me, and I can be better than I am. I want to be better. And if I’m being honest, the idea of having a baby again is pretty fuckin’ scary. But if I’m with you, then everything will be okay. I want to do this with you, if you’ll let me.”

He stands there before you, bare and all, asking for your permission to let him into your life again, and all you can do is pull him tight to you, holding him against you, breathing in his scent. He holds you equally as tight, his hand holding the back of your neck, keeping you close.

“’M not.. healed, (Y/N). I can’t promise to be a hundred percent everyday, but I’ll try. I will try to be what you guys need me to be. I can promise you that.”

“That’s all I need, Frank.”

You both hold each other for while, gentle hands smoothing over gentle skin. 

”I already love this baby too.” He says as he places a kiss on your forehead. 

If he thought you were going to let him go anytime soon, he thought wrong.

**

Over the next couple of weeks, you and Frank have been slowly adjusting to your new lives. He goes with you to every appointment, asking questions and reading books about parenting.

_“Why do you need to read? You’ve done this before.” You ask him when you find him on your couch reading a book called, “How To Be The Father Your Baby Needs”._

_“Don’t hurt to freshen up.” He says as he flips a page._

He eventually meets Linda, and although she’s hesitant and wary of him, when he thanks her for taking care of you, she is more than accepting of him, giving him hugs and shoving food into his arms. Pretty sure she also gave him the talk about marriage, but you and Frank decided that just because you were having a baby together, does not mean you needed to get married. Yet.

If you’re being honest though, you’re pretty sure Frank is enjoying this whole pregnancy thing more than you. He’s very touchy, always putting his hands on your belly, even when it was flat (You should’ve seen him when the bump first started coming out) and always talking to it, whether you’re awake or asleep.

He’s permanently moved himself into your apartment after a couple months, but it’s kind if a waste considering a couple of weeks later, he’s suggesting you guys move into a bigger apartment, and you’re inclined to agree. Your one bedroom apartment is much too small for you guys, so you both begin looking for bigger apartments in the city. You guys go to the open houses with the realtor, but you’re tempted to leave him at home since he finds something wrong in every single apartment. (“Too close to the city.” “Shitty apartment complex.” “Way too close to Choir Boy.” “Is that Matt’s new nickname?” “You know damn well what it is.”)

Matt visits often too, taking you out to lunch when you both are working and asking how everything is going between you and Frank. He’s your therapist without pay (and eventually a contender in the competition for your child’s godfather. You wanted Matt but Frank wanted Curt. He made a very compelling argument and you caved.

_“You should’ve been a lawyer, Frankie.” You tell him. He’s at the edge of your bed, rubbing your sore feet as you both talk about your days._

_“You kiddin’? Being one of those brown-nosed pieces of shi-”_

_“Frank!” He can’t help but laugh._ )

You eventually find a house on the outskirts of the city that you and Frank both agree on. You move almost immediately, packing your belongings with Linda as she and you both talk for the last time.

_“Here,” she says as she hands you a wrapped present, “For when the baby comes.”_

_“You didn’t have to Linda.”_

_“Oh please. Just open it.”_

_Inside the box is a number of unisex clothes and worn baby toys._

_“The toys were my son’s. I want you to have them. You’ll need them more than I will.”_

Linda promises to visit as often as she can (which she does) and you have never been happier. Life is good, and it gets even better when you and Frank head to your appointment.

You’re laying on the bed inside of the room with Frank in the chair beside you. Your doctor, a young Middle Eastern woman, comes in with a bright smile on her face.

“Who’s ready to see baby Castiglione?” She asks you both, as she closes the door behind her and squirts hand sanitizer on her hands.

“We are.” Frank responds, a smile also on his face. This whole pregnancy has done wonders to him: He’s gotten a stable job at a construction site near your new home and he’s been attending AA meetings twice a week. He seems significantly happier, but he always has his days. He visits his kids more often, sometimes taking you with him, other times preferring to go alone. (You’ve gone to Maria’s cemetery by yourself too, spending an hour or two just talking to her.) He doesn’t get nightmares as frequently anymore, which is a good sign. Overall, it’s been steady uphill streams of progress with the occasional setbacks, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

The doctor rubs the warm gel on your exposed bump and takes pictures of your baby with the little wand thing, showing you your growing baby. You can see the head and the arms and it’s all so exciting!

“Okay, well, little peanut is doing very well. Healthy and seemingly happy,” the doctor says as she takes the final picture on her computer. She turns her head to look at you both, “Are you guys ready to find out the gender?”

You turn your head to look at Frank, the excitement radiating in your eyes and the anxiousness apparent in his, “It’s up to you Frank.”

He furrows his brows, “Me?”. You nod your head. He stares at you like you’ve grown two heads. You only laugh in response.

“We can wait if you want to.”

He shakes his head, “No, no. We’ve been waiting long enough. Let’s find out.” You both share a smile, looking to your doctor and nodding your head. Frank grabs your hand on the bed and intertwines his fingers with yours, gently squeezing it.

“Alright then,” you doctor says. She moves the wand around a bit, taking a couple more pictures before stopping it in one position.

“Okay. Congratulations Mom and Dad. You guys are having a beautiful baby girl.”

Frank can feel time stop at those words. He moves his eyes between the doctor’s happy ones and your shocked ones (You had been betting on a boy this entire time).

“A girl,” he whispers, “We’re having a girl.” He looks at you, not noticing the tears well up in his eyes as he quickly leans down to you, giving you a hundred kisses all over you your face.

“I love you” kiss on the lips, “so” kiss on the nose, “much” kiss on the forehead. He plants another hundred, whispering how much he loves you and you’re not sure if the tears on your face are yours or Frank.

But neither of you care.

You and Frank are just happy to relish in the moment.

  
**  
She’s a tiny one.

Five pounds, one ounce, but she’s got a head of dark hair. She’s born at the break of dawn, 6:48 A.M. and her cries are the most wonderful things you’ve ever heard.

You thought you knew what love is with Frank. Boy, were you wrong.

When she’s placed into your arms, the wave of love you feel is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Frank was right, she does look like you. She’s got your nose and lips and she’s already got you wrapped around her finger.

Your tears are coming down in a steady stream, and they come down even faster when you put her in Frank’s arms.

He’s in utter awe of her. It’s exactly what he felt like with Lisa. He’s feeling a number of emotions right now, but none of them are a strong as the love he feels for her. Her cries are slowly subsiding when she’s placed into his arms and Frank is at peace.

Your doctor and her nurses are giving you their congratulations, but Frank can’t hear them.

All he can see is your daughter.  _His_  daughter. His beautiful baby girl.

She’s the dawn, as he is more than happy to watch the sun rise up.

**

_Three years later_

The doors to the monorail open and you cannot get in fast enough. Your aching feet propel you forward to get an empty seat, not even caring that you left your poor husband behind.

You quickly take a seat, feeling the pressure and the ache of your feet and back diminish. You watch your husband slowly follow in after you, along with all the other people trying to get in, with your sleeping daughter in his arms. Her curly hair is strewn all over the place and her arms are just thrown around Frank’s shoulders, but she looks content.

Frank slowly takes a seat next to you, his body exhaling a breath, “Finally.”

You chuckle, but not too loud in fear of disturbing the baby strapped to your chest. You and Frank has decided that for your oldest daughter’s birthday, you would take her to Disney World, seeing as she had been such a good sport on taking the backseat of your attention with the newest baby.

You had given birth to your second daughter five months ago, but given the complications of your pregnancy this time around, your recovery had been slow. Frank had been a saint, juggling work and time with your daughter all the while making sure the house was clean and there was food on the table.

You watched him lean his head back against the wall and close his eyes, the exhaustion finally seeping in. You had gotten to the park when it opened and spent the whole day there, making sure your daughter got on every ride she could and meet every character there. It was tiring, but seeing how she smiled when she met Cinderella was worth it.

Frank can feel your stare, and opens one eye to look at you. He smiles a lazy smile at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you into his body and giving you a kiss on the forehead. He can feel the vibration when you hum in approval of the kiss.

“You think she’s happy?” He asks, his eyes are still closed and his voice is slurred a bit. You look down to your daughter, watching as she drools on her father’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I think so. Unless excessively smiling is a symptom of extreme abuse,” you joked.

“You’d be surprised. I’ve seen the weirdest shit.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” A comfortable silence fills the space between you two as you listen to the hum of the train and the low chatter of the other passengers beside you.

“What about you?” you ask him after a minute or two.

“Hmm?” he responds sleepily.

“Are you happy?”

He slowly opens his eyes, turning his head to meet your gaze on his left. There’s a seriousness behind your eyes as you let the question sit between you two. He knows the purpose of the question, to gauge if he’s feeling restricted or forced into a life that wasn’t made for him anymore. You still make sure every once in a while that he’s okay, the circumstances of your first pregnancy very much still prevalent in your head.

He runs a hand through your hair, bringing your forhead to his lips for another kiss.

“I have my days. I miss them, a lot. But, I’ve found good again. And I’m happy. I’m very happy.”

He gives you a charming smile, the smile you fell in love with, and you believe him. You lean your head back down to his free shoulder, and allow your eyes to close.

He sighs a sigh of contentment; He’s got his three best girls right next to him. So yeah, he’s incredibly happy.

_There’s a new tomorrow at dawn. You’ve just gotta be willing to see it_

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to message me on my tumblr: haztory


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